Danse Macabre
by isthisrubble
Summary: Death, it seems, makes no exceptions. Harry Potter has just made the biggest mistake of his life.
1. Chapter 1

**Warning: This fic contains mentions of death**

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Head Auror Harry James Potter closed the file before he threw up.

He'd read all the reports and they all said the same thing.

He'd made the biggest mistake of his life.

Horror and grief tore at his heart, but he held them back. He couldn't break. Not here. Not now.

'Harry?' He looked up. Deputy Head Auror Terry Boot stood before him. He was looking at Harry as if he was a bomb about to go off. 'The coroner's report.'

_No._ 'Have you read it?'

'Yes.'

'Are they sure it's him?' _Please, please let there be something, anything-_

'Yes, they tested everything... Harry, I... Who's going to tell her? I mean, it's her job...

'Ask the Minister, I have to...' He needed quiet, he needed...

'Terry, you're in charge. I - I'll contact you when I know what... what I'm doing.'

Terry nodded. Harry knew he could trust him. He would make a good Head of Office once Harry was gone.

Harry gathered his things, buttoned up his long Auror coat and left the office. Along the corridors, up in the lift... Normal people with everyday lives, worried about Quidditch or their children. He had never felt so alone.

The morning crowds in the Atrium parted effortlessly to let Harry through. The "out" fireplaces were free and soon he was out in Muggle London.

He leant against a tree, fighting back tears. He should never have authorised the damn thing, never, and now...

If someone didn't stop him, he was going to hurt someone, and it would probably be himself.

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**Thanks to FF writer Northumbrian for two ideas in this chapter: "Terry Boot is an Auror" and "Aurors wear long black swishy coats".**


	2. Chapter 2

Ginny tapped her quill against her teeth as she checked over her latest article. She'd get it in a day early, thank goodness, and then she could go home. She didn't necessarily need to be in Scotland to write a story about their Quidditch team, but it helped. She missed her home, though, and of course she had to be away just when Harry was launching a new operation and needed someone to make him eat and sleep occasionally.

She paused as someone knocked on the door. 'Come in!'

Ginny turned around, then stared. Harry stood in the doorway, and to say that there was something wrong would have been an understatement. His eyes were bloodshot from crying and she could see how tense all of his muscles were. She hadn't seen him this wretched-looking in years.

'Harry?' He looked at her, but didn't speak. 'Harry, what's happened? What's wrong?' Still nothing.

Concerned, Ginny got up and walked over to him. He still didn't say anything, and Ginny suddenly felt terrified. What was so bad that it had left him like this? Had something happened to the kids?

'If I told you...' - Ginny started; Harry's voice was disturbingly flat and emotionless - 'that... I got... got a civilian killed... Oh _fuck_...'

He crumpled against her and started to cry. Ginny caught him, horrified. No-one died on Auror missions in this day and age. The new operation had gotten someone killed, and Harry thought it was his fault...

Ginny pushed down her panic and tried to think. She knew the operation Harry was starting was dangerous and included infiltration, but he hadn't been able to tell her any more. He was the one who authorised all the Auror missions, and he felt personally responsible for everyone in his office. But a _civilian..._

Something occurred to her, and she grabbed Harry' shoulders so she could properly see his face. 'You knew them! Harry, who was it? Do I - oh, Harry...' He knew them, she could see it in his face, and she knew them too.

He was sobbing in earnest now. 'I should have... oh Merlin...' he gasped something else, and at first Ginny couldn't even tell that it was a word. Then what he'd said penetrated and her stomach dropped through the floor.

'SAY THAT AGAIN!' She grabbed the front of his coat and hoisted him to his full height. 'Please, Harry, _please..._'

He turned his face away from her fierce gaze. 'I let him die,' he whispered.

Blind fury gripped her, and Ginny tried to throw him across the room, an effort that was hampered by her legs giving way beneath her. She crumpled with a wild cry of grief. Not him, it _couldn't_ be him...

When she lifted her head, it was to see Harry in almost the same place he'd landed, with his face buried in his hands. She suddenly felt terribly sorry for him. He'd caused, or said he'd caused, the death of a friend. She couldn't hate him.

Suddenly through the grief rose a furious tide of hatred, and she cursed whoever had done the deed, if she got her hands on them she would skin them alive...

She seized her abandoned ink bottle and threw it with all her strength. It shattered against the wall with a spray of blue ink, and as the ink ran down the wall Ginny felt her anger drain away, leaving only sadness behind. She sunk down beside Harry and took his hand.

She had no idea how long they'd been sitting there before -

'The Minister For Magic requests your presence immediately.'

Harry nearly fell off the bed, before he realised where the disembodied voice was coming from. He retrieved his wallet from a hidden pocket and opened it, fishing out his Ministry of Magic identification card, which kept repeating the message in a horribly cheerful voice.

He frowned, clearly trying to decide something, so she offered the only reassurance she could: 'Do you want me to come with you?'

Harry shook his head. 'I'll be alright. I think...'

He looked away and stepped into the middle of the room where the floor was clear. He turned on the spot and Disapparated.

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**Note: I've had a few PMs about this story, so basically: It will have 5 chapters, and I'm being deliberately obtuse about who's dead. I encourage you to try and work it out for yourselves, unless it's really obvious already. If it is, sorry.**

**Reviews are greatly appreciated!**


	3. Chapter 3

**There's swearing in this chapter. Enemies of the heir, beware.**

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Percy looked at the closed door to the Minister's private office in concern. Kingsley had been closeted away in there for half an hour with Terry Boot and, unusually, he hadn't been allowed in. He was the Minister's Senior Secretary, but Boot had requested Kingsley on his own, which meant something was up. Or something was wrong.

As he pushed that disturbing thought away, a piece of parchment slid under the office door, refolded into a memo and landed on Percy's desk.

_Percy,_

_Please get Harry and Hermione to my office as soon as possible._

_Kingsley._

Percy did as he was told. One memo to the Head of the Auror Office and one to the Head of the Department for Magical Law Enforcement. There was definitely something going on. He felt worry bubbling inside him, and swallowed.

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Hermione arrived in minutes. She stopped by Percy's desk to say hello, said she had no idea what was happening but she was sure she'd find out soon enough.

Harry took longer to arrive, and when he did, Percy knew for certain that something was wrong. He looked sick and exhausted and, as he passed by without even looking at Percy, the latter saw that he had been crying hard.

Percy stood up as Harry entered Kingsley's office.

He sat down again.

Sorted through his in-tray.

Straightened everything.

Twice.

Finally, just as he was wondering whether his pacing was actually helping his worrying, he heard voices.

'_NO!'_

There was an almighty crash as Kingsley's door flew clean off it's hinges and slammed against the wall. Harry came staggering backwards out of the room, arms raised to protect his face from the most unlikely of attackers.

Hermione.

She screamed as she pummelled him, and Harry stumbled away from her, but not quickly enough. Hermione, who, Percy now saw, was weeping, continued to punch him.

'You fucking _bastard!_ You murdering piece of shit! How could you? _How could you!_'

'Hermione!'

Kingsley and Boot had rushed out behind her, and Boot grabbed Hermione, pulling her away. She collapsed against him, sobbing.

'What on earth is going on?'

Nobody bothered to answer him.

More confused than ever, Percy turned to Harry. He wasn't looking at Hermione or anyone else, rather, he was staring straight ahead, looking as if he'd just seen the most horrifying thing imaginable. Percy looked from Harry to Hermione, then to the expressions on Kingsley and Boot's faces. Then one word sunk in.

_Murdering._ Someone was dead.

His spine turned to ice.

'Who's dead?'

Harry turned his head slowly towards Percy. At the mention of "dead", his face had lost all expression.

'What's going on, for the love of Merlin?' _Who's dead?_

Total, absolute silence.

Someone he knew? Someone he cared about? It wasn't one of the children, was it? If it was...

Kingsley turned to Harry, grabbing his arm proceeded to have a quiet argument while Percy tried, almost successfully, not to have a panic attack.

Eventually they seemed to come to some sort of agreement. Harry, turning to Hermione, was the first to speak.

'I... I think we should go... go to the Burrow. Molly... Molly and Arthur... they should know.' He choked this out while trying hard not to break out into sobs again. 'Hermione... Hermione, please, I...' He trailed off, looking at her beseechingly. She stared back, then tentatively reached for his hand. _They're holding each other up,_ realised Percy with a start. He would have expected this from Ginny and Harry, Ron and Hermione, or even Harry and Ron, but Hermione and Harry? What was so bad that they needed to almost physically support each other? Percy looked at his boss. Kingsley's face was a mask.

'I think you'd best go with Harry and Hermione, Percy. The three of you can have the rest of the week off, and then decide what you want to do.'

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**You've all worked it out now, haven't you?**

***ducks for cover from all the fangirls of a certain character, who are throwing rotten vegetables***

**In case it's not obvious, the door being blown off it's hinges was Hermione's magic exploding out of her.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello there, readers! Firstly, thanks so much for all the reviews, I love getting feedback. This is the second-last chapter in this story, and, as you may have guessed, this is the chapter were all is revealed.**

**Enjoy!**

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As soon as they arrived at the Burrow, Hermione turned and buried he face in Harry's chest. She couldn't bring herself even to look around, lest the memories crush her as she sobbed. Harry was crying too, she could feel his hands shaking as he held her. He had even more happy memories of this place, memories that would forever be tainted by what had happened this morning.

_No, don't think about that, don't lose it now -_

The door opened, and Hermione heard Molly exclaim in surprise. 'Percy! Come in, Ginny is - Harry? Hermione? What's happened?'

Harry guided Hermione into the living room, and there she forced herself to loosen her grip on him and look around, avoiding the photographs on the wall. Ginny sat with her father at the coffee both had cups of tea in front of them.

As soon as Ginny saw them, she burst into tears. 'Oh _Hermione.._.'

Harry pulled away from Hermione and she saw that he had shifted into his professional demeanour: blank, unreadable face, straight back, stiff limbs. Only his hands gave him away, they were shaking, and shiny with sweat.

Molly made them all tea, and Hermione and Percy sat beside Ginny, who was watching Harry with concern. Of course she knew, she would have been the first person Harry went to when he found out. Harry didn't acknowledge Molly or the tea. He didn't even move. He was stealing himself.

She should be the one to say it. She was his superior and, officially, it was her duty, yet she couldn't. To get up and tell Molly and Arthur that - that -

'Two weeks ago, the Auror Office discovered a cell of Death Eater impersonators that we couldn't infiltrate...'

The group had been ordering products, mainly Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder and Decoy Detonators, from Weasley Wizard Wheezes, and Ron and George had been more than happy to co-operate with Harry. She'd heard all the details, first when Harry had proposed his idea, and then from Ron, who was excited to be involved with the Aurors again. He enjoyed working in the shop, but he still missed the thrill of the chase.

_Don't crack, don't -_

Both Ron and George, through the business, had been to the hideout before they knew the type of people they were selling to. Because of the precautions placed against Aurors, they were the only people who'd been in there. Due to regulations Harry himself had written, the Aurors had to take one of them in as a guide, since they'd not been able to scout. And Harry had chosen Ron.

'Late last night a squad of Aurors, with Ron, infiltrated the base. They were met by three times the number of assailants that had been estimated and before reinforcements arrived, they -' His voice cracked and his face crumpled. Hermione heard Percy gasp in horror as he worked it out, then Harry spat out: 'Ron's dead.'

At those words, Hermione lost her weak control over her tears, and started to sob. Ginny put her arms around her, and for goodness knows how long she simply cried.

At one point Ginny's arms left her shoulders, and when she regained control of herself she saw that Ginny had gone to comfort Harry, but he was trying to push her away, saying: 'They knew it was him, my _friend_, if it had have been George they wouldn't have -'

'You made the best decision you could, and Ron used too be an Auror, he knew the risks...'

That made no difference, thought Hermione bitterly. He was still dead.

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**An explanation: I expect to get a few reviews wailing about me killing Ron, so just to set the record straight: I love Ron, always have, always will. I wrote this for the same reason that I wrote "Dreams": I love experimenting with Harry's emotions. That sounds so cruel, doesn't it?**


	5. Chapter 5

**Last chapter! Actually this is more of an epilogue. Thanks so much for all the reviews and favourites, the only thing in the world better than reviews is chocolate.**

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When the Minister for magic himself came into the office of the Daily Prophet and asked to see the Head Editor, it caused quite a stir.

As he was lead up to the editor's office, Kingsley caught several journalists staring at him. The Minister never did something personally unless it was very important, and then they would all be vying for the scoop of the year. Kingsley wondered, not for the first time, if journalists had any consciences at all. They seemed to have no qualms about writing scandalous stories about dead men.

Once they sat down and Kingsley had refused the offer of tea, he looked closer at the editor and decided that he definitely knew some of what had happened that morning. There had been nothing about it in any of the magazines or newspapers today about it (he knew, he'd checked), but that didn't mean there wasn't an "Exclusive Breaking News" story in the pipeline.

'Here is the Ministry statement concerning the events involving the Auror office this morning.' The editor reached out, picking up the scroll as if it were a precious jewel. 'I would advise you to treat this case with delicacy.'

The editor hardly even looked up.

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_The next day:_

_RON WEASLEY DEAD_

_Hero of 1997/8 war killed in botched Auror mission_

Kingsley pushed aside the newspaper without reading the article. He hated his job sometimes.

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**That's all, folks!**

**If you're a journalist, sorry! I'm just making use of the Rita Skeeter stereotype.**


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